Anticipation - A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction One Shot
by sherekahnsgirl
Summary: Tom's love comes home from a bad day at work and he takes special care of her from the moment she steps in the door. Mildly dominant Tom, cartaking Tom, light bondage, light D/s, sex, smut, fluff.


A/N: Not my best effort.18+

 _She was splayed in the middle of their big bed, naked except the bonds that fettered her._

 _There was no other word that really fit the position he'd put her into besides that._

 _She was wide open, the entirety of her body, her most private places rendered completely and utterly vulnerable to him - wrists cuffed together then bound above her head just to that perfect point - still pain free, but restrained in a way that meant she couldn't move them at all in any direction._

 _Held fast._

 _But that wasn't the worst of it. Having her hands taken out of commission, losing the ability to defend herself should the need arise - not that it ever would with him, but still - was bad, but not nearly as bad as what he'd done to her legs._

 _And he'd done it all so calmly, gently even, and with truly scrupulous attention to her comfort . . ._

He'd met her at the door this evening - holding it open for her, having heard her drive up. He immediately placed a silencing finger over her lips, which she knew meant that he wanted her not only to remain quiet, but also not to move from where she was just then and that she was to leave her hands at her sides unless told otherwise. She found herself relieved her of her purse and briefcase, which were tucked away neatly as he preferred, then, when he returned to her, he pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it cascade naturally down her back to nearly her butt, running his fingers through it, a look of pure pleasure on his face as he came around to stand in front of her. His eyes met hers and that same hand came up to cup her cheek.

"Such a pretty girl," Tom murmured, watching - and feeling - her blush rise. He felt her try to lower her chin, as she would have normally, preferring to hide from the compliments he showered on her liberally, but he wouldn't have it.

Not tonight.

Her blazer was unbuttoned and removed, hung on a hangar he'd procured from their bedroom and hung off the door of the coat closet, close at hand. The pencil skirt was next, and then he came to stand in front of her and unbuttoned her blouse with nimble - and extremely talented - fingers.

Tanya saw his eyes widen at the sight of her breasts in the pushup bra she'd worn, hoping to show it off to him when she got home, but the hellhole that was work had robbed her of that delicious anticipation almost the moment she'd stepped into the building this morning, and it had gone downhill from there. She was glad she got to see his reaction after all. It was more than satisfactory - causing him - her almost too smart for his own good, verbose lover who could talk most people into the ground - to stand there as if he'd was struck dumb by the sight, staring greedily, hungrily at her. One hand came up as if to touch that which his eyes coveted - that which he knew with absolute certainty was his and his alone - but he retracted it at almost the very last moment and turned instead to hang up the blouse, tucking the ensemble away to be retrieved later.

Much, much later.

Since it was summer, she wore no hose, and was standing there in that provocative lacy blue bra and panty set she'd gotten from online. She was a bit nervous about how it fit, how it looked on her, but there was absolutely no mistaking Tom's interest even though he was dressed in a pair of black leather pants that he knew she loved on him and a blue dress shirt that pulled tightly across his chest, so that she could clearly see the muscles working beneath it, as well as tiny points of nipples that seemed to be perpetually hard.

Just like his cock, which was already at full mast and straining against the confines of the buttery soft leather, trying to tent it away from his body and having more success than most average sized men might at it.

He moved around behind her to unhook her bra, coming back to peel it off her slowly from the front, and she was treated to the harsh sound of his caught breath when her breasts were revealed to him for the first time - that day, anyway. Tanya watched as that eager tongue of his darted out to wet his lips as he gazed at her pink tip-tilted breasts for a long moment, until those startling azure eyes suddenly rose and locked to hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel as if he was holding a live wire to her clit.

His expression was full of naked, uninhibited, uncontrollable lust, and she knew she was seeing into the heart and soul of him, that she was looking at the most primitive part of him, one that would have had her beneath him in a second - or slammed back against the door she'd just come through - stabbed and pinned by that magnificent cock of his, taken and claimed forcefully and with complete disregard for her wishes - if he didn't maintain that iron control of his over his baser instincts.

Some times he succeeded at that goal, some times he didn't, and she never knew which it would be, which he knew was a huge turn on for her.

As he held her eyes, he took a step forward, then dropped gracefully to his knee before her to slide his fingers up the outsides of her thighs to her hips, where he threaded his fingers beneath her panties, drawing them slowly - very slowly - down her legs. As soon as her mons was uncovered, as he continued to work her panties down, he leaned forward until his face was directly in front of her lush delta, taking a deep breath and holding it, as if he was sniffing the bouquet of a particularly fine, expensive vintage, and then that long held breath exploded onto her lady bits, moist heat hitting moist heat just before his lips brushed the very top of her nude cleft, letting the barest tip of his tongue delve between those puffy lips for less than a second before withdrawing.

Tanya practically came right then and there.

When her panties were at her ankles, one big hand came up to take hers in the entirely unnecessary but wonderfully chivalrous act of holding her hand so that she could lean on him while she stepped out of them, as well as the heels she was wearing at the same time. He disappeared for but a moment, tucking things away quickly and then hurrying back to her from the bedroom.

Once he had her in his sights again, he took his time coming to her, wanting to savor the journey as much as the destination, his eyes roaming over her with undisguised, passionate possession as he strode slowly back, greedy eyes devouring every inch of her, from the frosted pink nails on her ridiculously feminine jellybean toes, up those delicate, slim ankles and beautiful calves of hers, the pretty provocative knees he loved to keep his hand on when they were in public, slender yet generous thighs, crowned as they were, by the prize that was her womanhood, framed by luscious hips his palms itched to clutch and claim.

Her tummy was just the slightest bit rounded - which was, he had reassured her many times and would continue to do so as long as he thought she needed him to - exactly as he preferred it. Her ribs were visible - although not starkly so - and frankly more so than he would prefer, but he never commented about that to her, not wanting to add to what he knew was a body image that - despite her other strengths of character and personality - was somewhat delicately balanced - and she was perfect to him, regardless.

And those breasts - his mouth watered as he drew ever closer, almost close enough now to reach out and touch one, although he restrained himself from that ever present impulse. They were just the right size - slightly more generous than was absolutely proportional for her petite body type, with soft light dusky areoles topped by mauve pink crests that blossomed forth as his eyes devoured them.

Her shoulders were narrow - too much so to carry the burdens she often did, despite his attempts to alleviate as much of that as he could for her - arms nicely muscled but also appropriately rounded, her frosted pink tipped hands so tiny in comparison to his -

His mind suddenly flashed on how it felt when she wrapped those hands around him - almost needing two hands to do so - and began to stroke him, his part in question rearing its head even further at the thought and prospect of that happening.

Tom had to actually shake his head to rid himself of the powerful, entrancing vision, taking in that delicate neck of hers that he loved to nibble and tickle with his tongue. He could hear her giggles in his ear, he swore, although she was standing quietly before him as she knew she was required to. She had a lovely strong jaw, full, soft pink lips, beautiful cheekbones and startling green eyes generously fringed in thick kohl black lashes - all in all, a face he found utterly gorgeous, although he knew that - if he allowed her to - and he didn't - she would argue that point with him quite vehemently which had gotten her into more than a few spots of trouble until he'd laid down the law that the only thing she was allowed to say to him when he complimented her body was, "Thank you, Sir."

"Turn around for me, my love," he whispered huskily and she obeyed immediately, presenting him with nearly a yard of reddish blonde waves that curled at the ends, as if they, too, wanted to cup that beautiful bottom of hers. Taking a step forward, almost enough so that they would be touching but carefully, calculatedly not quite that far, he reached out to sweep aside that glorious cascade, brushing it over her left shoulder so that he would have an uninterrupted view of the curving slope off her back, completely unable to stop his fingers from trailing down the indentation of her spine, his touch soft as a feather, drawing gooseflesh in their wake wherever they touched her. She had startlingly flawless ivory skin that never failed to entrance him, and that he would dedicate himself to preserving - everywhere except where his fingers ended up, molding themselves to his most favorite set of her cheeks, although not grabbing or squeezing at all, simply . . . possessing, and thoroughly enjoying the act of it, knowing that by his own law, she was expressly forbidden from interrupting him when he was exploring and inspecting her like this.

It was good to be King.

Eventually, with great reluctance, he was able to pull himself away from her and come to stand before her again, still gazing at every bit of her with unabashed adoration and undisguised lust. He knew she thought her legs were too heavy and her hips too curvy, that her breasts were too big, her chin too sharp, her nose too big - but when he looked at her he could never find even the smallest thing about which to complain. He wanted a woman who _looked_ like a woman - not a girl - who had breast and hips and thighs that quietly declared that she was _female_ , possessing the smaller, softer, rounded counterparts to his tall, lean, angular frame.

And she most certainly did have every bit of that, in spades.

Finally, he felt he could indulge himself a bit and took the first step since she'd come through the door that brought them into full body contact. One hand - fingers spread wide - ended up at the small of her back, the other coming up to lift her chin for his kiss.

He took his time there, too, seeing the passion in her eyes, knowing she was as eager for the kiss he was - her lips were moist and parted, that sweet teaberry breath coming much more quickly than the usually steady rhythm he knew from her, her eyes already settling onto his mouth, the corners of which automatically turned up gently in quiet acknowledgement of her unspoken need.

Index finger still beneath her chin, Tom leaned slowly down so that his lips hovered over hers. "Welcome home, my Lady," he whispered, catching her eye before pressing forward just the slightest bit to bringing their mouths together, finally.

Even during the kiss, though, he never quickened his pace, never became fevered or rushed but instead coaxed and cajoled, almost teasingly gentle with her, as if her lips were spun glass, sipping at her, drawing her to him, making her want him to lose control and kiss her hard.

Normally she would have been climbing all over him, her arms entwined around his neck, hands cupping the back of his head and trying to encourage him to deepen the kiss. But she had been silently prohibited from doing that as soon as she stepped in the door by that finger across her lips.

So Tanya had to wrestle with the realization - which he loved to press home to her in many ways, both large and small sprinkled throughout their lives together - that her only option was to submit to him - that this - whatever it was to be - would happen in _his_ time and _his_ way, not hers.

As someone who considered herself to be a submissive, and was certainly aroused by the mere suggestion of submitting, Tom took every opportunity to point out to her - verbally or non - on occasions such as this one - that it wasn't something that came naturally to her, necessarily. And he'd seemed inordinately happy about that fact, too.

She was a strong, successful woman who was used to running the show - not being told what to do. It had been a long time since she'd been in any kind of a truly subordinate position career-wise.

But such was not true for her at home. Not at all.

Not that she was treated as anything less than Tom in any way. Neither of them could have tolerated that. It was simply that - partially because of her position, her stress level was extreme, and when a day like today happened, during which she'd called him at home nearly in tears from a fiasco of a meeting - and overall in their lives, he actively sought to remove as much stress from her as possible.

And that meant that, ultimately, as pertained them - particularly their very _intimate_ lives - the buck stopped with him, not her. At home, she had but one job: to submit herself to him completely, without reservation.

Even after six months of living together, she still struggled. She'd confided to him that she thought she probably always would.

He hadn't been anywhere near as sympathetic as she'd wanted him to be about her confession, either, chuckling softly and saying something to the effect that nothing worthwhile in life came easily.

And so Tanya willed herself to relax and focused her mind where she knew it ought to be - and where she _wanted_ it to be - on him, just as she knew that she was always paramount in his mind, especially at a time like this.

Tom sensed her wrestling with herself and chose to ignore it rather than try to assist. She had told him that sometimes he leaned towards being almost overly helpful - something he was already aware of - and she was a big girl. She'd either work it out and they would have the pleasant evening he had planned for them, or she would find herself on the receiving end of a thorough session with the paddle, after which he would fuck her for his own gratification - hard and fast and completely without regard for her pleasure, and would fall sleep tonight in his arms, her head on his shoulder, as always - but left quite deliberately unfulfilled.

He wouldn't hesitate to indulge himself in the delights of her body regardless of the outcome of her inner turmoil. It was a win-win for him.

He made sure the kiss was light and gentle even when his tongue slipped past her lips, her mouth opening automatically on a soft coo that went directly to his cock as he delicately and thoroughly ravaged her mouth, nibbling slightly on the tip of her tongue, tickling her teeth and stroking her languidly everywhere he could reach until he very slowly began to lean back, maintaining the contact of the kiss as long as was humanly possible and drawing a mournful cry from her as, finally, his lips left hers.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, his eyes closed, breathing heavily in synch with her, consciously grabbing a hold of his own desires and ruthlessly tamping them down. This wasn't about him. This was about her.

His time would come later, after he'd seen to her in the ways he had been imagining all day long.

Tanya's eyes were closed, too, as she fought for control of her own rampant responses to him. She had always been almost worrisomely in tuned to him, to anything he did to her, and the longer they were together - the better they got to know each other, specifically him knowing her and what's more bothering to _remember_ what he learned - the more excruciatingly sensitive she became to Tom and everything about him.

Her eyes flew open, though, and she strained a bit away from him in surprise when she felt him lift her into his arms, her hands automatically wrapping round that strong neck.

"Keep your eyes closed, little one. There's nothing more you need to think or stress about today - nothing at all. Relax and let go of the day. Put yourself in my hands. I'll keep you safe."

He couldn't even begin to quantify how wonderful it made him feel when she did exactly as he'd asked, her body melting into his as she tucked her eyes against the side of his neck and surrendered herself into his care. He knew how hard it was for her to do that, and he felt like turning cartwheels that he had been able to get this beautiful creature to trust him enough to truly let go of all of her worries - both real and imagined.

When they were at the side of their bed, he put one knee on the mattress and settled her into the middle of it. She stayed exactly where he put her, as she knew she was supposed to, her eyes remaining obediently closed.

"Take a deep breath for me, baby," he crooned, although she knew it wasn't a suggestion. He was trying to help her relax even further, using the subtle, underlying thread of his dominance and her submission that was woven through every aspect of their lives to both soothe and arouse her - and he was succeeding. It wasn't just what he said to her, it was how he said it, in that deep, soft, velvet covered steel tone of his that he kept modulated such that it was absolutely, insidiously hypnotic to her. "I'm right here and I'm going to take care of _every_ , _single_ inch of you in the best way I know how. I want you to give yourself over to me - to this experience - completely. The only thoughts in your head - besides that you know you must wait for my permission to cum - should be of obedience and surrender to me - my hands, my lips and my cock."

She was always rendered absurdly helpless when he spoke to her like this and her body had already gone almost alarmingly limp, yet when his speech ended she shuddered uncontrollably.

Tom placed a hand on the relatively neutral territory of her arm, drawing his fingers sensuously up to her shoulder, across her collar bone then down the midline of her body, avoiding nipples that were achingly eager for his touch.

Tanya could feel him kneel on the bed next to her, but with her eyes closed had no idea what he was doing until she felt the familiar blindfold being put into place. It wasn't one of those cheap sleep masks that came off so easily if she moved her head - which she was bound to do once he began to touch her - but rather a soft pink leather one with cushioned foam discs that both blocked out all light and, when he tightened it to what had long since been determined by him to be the perfect amount, it rendered her unable to open her eyes.

While still leaning over her, he reached beneath her neck and lifted her hair out from under her, knowing it was a pet peeve of hers that she didn't like it to be trapped beneath anything so that she couldn't move her head. Once he'd had that luxurious mass spreading wildly across the pillows, he reached down and took first one hand - kissing the back of it in a truly courtly manner - then doing the same thing with its twin, wrapping a well padded cuff - that matched the blindfold - around each wrist, hooking them together with a pink sparkly speed clip that he then used to lift them over her head and attach to a hook he'd long since had placed in a discreet yet strategic spot on their headboard.

"Comfortable? No pain?" he asked, and she knew he was listening attentively - as always - to her response and would make whatever adjustments necessary to make sure that, although she couldn't move her arms, that the position he had placed them in would in no way detract from whatever else it was he planned on doing to her.

"No pain," she whispered.

She felt his mouth just above her navel, kissing and licking extravagantly. "Excellent, my love." Instead of asking her to move her arms for him, he let his fingers tickle her sides a bit, drawing exactly the reaction he wanted from her, watching avidly as she tried to escape the gentle, teasing motions of his fingers, her arms remaining exactly where he'd put them.

Knowing how much she hated to be tickled, he didn't continue the torture for very long, just long enough to gather the information he needed from her and then just the slightest bit past that point, to emphasize her helplessness. He knew that tickling was a hard limit for her, that she detested it, but he liked letting her know every once in a while that he intended to push those limits occasionally, and - almost more importantly along with that concept - that there was nothing she could do about it if he decided that that was what he wanted to do to her.

That frisson of fear-laced doubt was very powerful to the both of them, and thus one that he was very careful not to overuse. He didn't want to damage the level of trust she'd placed in him, yet he liked to remind her occasionally of her vulnerability, knowing it heightened her desire to an epic level.

Tanya could hear him unraveling more restraints and swallowed hard, her mouth already bone dry from all of the panting she'd been doing at his behest and now becoming even more so at the prospect of being further restrained.

Cuffs from the set he was working with found their way around her thighs, just above her knees, where they were gently cinched into place. Then he found his way to the end of the bed, taking possession of one cute, small foot - which he pressed a kiss onto the instep of - using it to bend her leg back, following it up, very slowly pressing it up and out like a butterfly wing until he met with her body's natural resistance and just a tinge beyond. A thin leather thong that lived attached to their headboard was clipped to the d-ring on the cuff and when he relinquished possession of her foot, her leg was forced to remain in that widely open position.

The other leg was treated in much the same fashion, after which he asked, "Still comfortable, babygirl?"

That really wasn't the word she would have chosen for the position in which he found herself, held helplessly, defenselessly splayed open before him, but she knew what he was asking about.

"Yes, Sir." The huskiness of her words even surprised her.

"Perfect."

She heard - and felt - him get off the bed and knew, somehow, that he had come to stand at the end of it, gazing down at his handiwork.

Tanya automatically tried to test the new bonds, but he had gotten it perfect - there was no way to move, no way to relieve the awful display she was making of herself in front of him. She felt the blush begin at her toes, feeling the heated stain spread upwards from there across every aspect of her body, flushing her face last to the roots of her hair and beyond.

"You are absolutely exquisite, Tanya, my love," he breathed, his own voice a lower, raspier echo of hers as Loki somehow slipped from his mouth.

His words brought her blush to a true peak as he chuckled softly down at her, loving every possible way she responded to him - voluntary or involuntary - as he took his place on the bed before her spread legs, his mouth millimeters from where she most wanted it to be, so that she could feel his warm breath on her fevered flesh and know - even blindfolded as she was - exactly what his eyes were beholding at this moment.

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen her secrets before. He was most thoroughly acquainted with them, but it never failed to strike awe into his heart when the most blatant evidence of her desire for him was right there on display before him.

Both her inner and outer lips were a swollen and puffy dramatically deep pink from her body's efforts at readying itself for him for his ultimate possession, her clit peaked and firm and peeping bravely out from behind its covering, but that was far from the only proof. For that he drew his gaze down that beautiful groove of hers, to the part of her that always gushed its welcome for him, and this time was no different. He could see a tiny stream of her libation seeping constantly out of her and knew that - by the time he was finished with her - he would need to change the comforter, which would be darkly stained by the unmistakable evidence of their desire.

The other thing that had his cock trying to rise further and spasm behind its leather constraint was the fact that - even stretched and spread wide as she was - her entrance remained demurely closed. She was that tight. Even after their time together - and they'd been intimate for over eighteen months now - during which he'd taken her at least once a day, usually more - she remained almost virginally tight, so much so that when they'd first made love and he'd begun to press himself into her, he'd stopped immediately and pulled completely out of her, not wanting to proceed without knowing the truth so that he didn't hurt her unnecessarily, sitting back on his heels and searching her face.

"Jesus Christ, are you a virgin?" He hadn't meant it to come out accusatorily, although he was worried she would perceive it that way.

But he needn't have worried. She had giggled incessantly at that, tickled almost to the point that she couldn't formulate a reply. "No. Very, very far from it." She sat up and put a tentative hand on his chest. He looked troubled. "I've told you about my sex life with my husband, my girlfriend, my exes . . ."

"You're . . . " he flushed, aware that he might well have made a false assumption, "you're very, unusually tight for someone who has been as active as all that."

Tanya put aside her tendency to take offense. He was just worried about her and wanting to make sure she had the best experience, she knew. "I told you that my husband wasn't physically capable of actual intercourse - not that that we didn't have a ragingly good sex life, we did. We just didn't do that thing in particular, and I knew that . . . substitutes bothered him and I didn't care about them, so we didn't use much in the way of toys, but then we didn't need them, either. He made me cum so hard with his mouth and his fingers that I thought I was going to just die from it."

He looked marginally reassured.

"Between one ex and my late husband, and the time that's gone by since his death - during which I've been taking advantage of the fact that God gave me hands that reached and have been otherwise celibate - it's been about ten years since I've had actual _intercourse_. Plus I do kegels routinely. So I was hoping it would be a tight fit - for the both of us."

His face had softened considerably. "I just don't want to hurt you."

She cupped his beautiful face, kissing him tenderly. "You won't. You can't. I was made for this right here, Tom -" she had reached down and wrapped her small hand around his tumescence, causing his hips to jerk and press himself further into her light, teasing grip, "I was made for you - to punish, to fuck, to take, to use - in whatever way you see fit to do so."

With that heart stopping declaration, she laid back and reached up to grab the spindles of the headboard. But she didn't stop there, meeting his eyes and continuing in a soft, almost shy tone, "I submit myself to you, Tom. Do with me as you will, and remember that, you inside me, forcing me to stretch around you - which feels unutterably amazing, by the way - you fucking me as hard as you possibly can - is exactly what I want from you. It's how you can best make me feel that I'm truly yours."

It hadn't taken any more convincing then, and it wouldn't take much now for him to press himself into her, but that wasn't the plan tonight. He levered himself away from her, off the bed, smiling to himself when he heard her regretful moan. The sun was finally down and he spent the next few minutes lighting candles - some scented, some not - about the room and turning on very soft music in the background, even though he knew she couldn't appreciate the sight of her luminous skin in the candlelight, he adored it.

Returning to the bed, he stretched out beside her, marveling once again at the stark differences in their sizes, knowing that that was part of what brought to the forefront every protective instinct he owned in relation to her.

Not to mention the possessive ones, which were also just beneath the surface with him since he'd found her, much more so than with any other woman he'd ever been involved with.

She was his, by her own admission, and he would keep what was his safe, bound close to his side, if not by virtual of physical bonds but every other iteration he could manage.

He did miss seeing her eyes when he touched her, tempering his repertoire based partly on what he saw there, but he knew that relieving her of her sight would force her even deeper into subspace, where he dearly loved putting her.

It wasn't as if she didn't show him in other ways how he was making her feel as he let his hands do what they'd been itching to since she'd come through their front door, allowing them free range to roam anywhere they'd like, one delving into her hair, fingers close to her scalp, the other resting at first on her stomach, but then making the languid trek north to skirt the gentle curves of the very edges of her breasts, completely avoiding the straining peaks.

When he finally touched her - really _touched_ her - Tanya's agonizingly groaned sigh echoed throughout the room, even though his hands had yet to land where she most wanted them to. He continued to tease her, touching every single inch of her that was completely neutral, although there wasn't a bit of her that was really that any longer. He had gotten her entire body so sensitized, so tuned into everything about him and what he was doing to her that every touch - no matter how innocuous the location or intent - might as well have been to her poor neglected clit.

And he kept doing it. Tanya had no idea how long he deprived her most desirous spots of direct stimulation - concentrating his lips and tongue and fingertips on the palms of her hands, the insides of her elbows, the backs of her knees and the nape of her neck among other places - until finally he knelt between her legs and lay himself on top of her, his stomach lying directly on top of her open and vulnerable privates, every movement he made from that point on affecting them, too as his hands clutched the bottom of her breasts and squeezing both upwards and towards the center of her body, roughly, gripping her tightly and forcing eager nipples into his hot, wet mouth. One after the other was avidly suckled, his tongue swirling and flicking those swollen pebbles mercilessly, traveling eagerly back and forth between the two as he felt her trying to writhe beneath him but he was just too big for her to accomplish much of anything besides looking wonderfully enticing as she did so.

After long moments of lavishing his lips and tongue on those turgid peaks, he scootched down just a bit to bury his face in her tummy while his fingers continued to tease her, pinching those big nipples - made bigger by his own efforts - hard and twisting them at the same time and making Tom smile broadly - and perhaps a bit evilly - at her soft sounds of distress mixed with undeniable passion.

"I love hearing you cry out like this, babygirl. Like you wish I'd stop but then you can't bear the idea that I actually might . . ." He rested his chin just below her breasts, watching his fingers grasp the very tips of those buds and pinch very hard while tugging away from her body at the same time, making her try to arch her back to relieve the pain but completely unable to do so because of his weight on her, mewling and whimpering as he continued to tug hard, until he could no longer maintain his grip on her and her nipples were at last released from their torture.

Except that he began again immediately and did the same thing, all the while listening to her nonverbal protests, but also feeling his shirt being soaked being soaked through to his skin by her juices the entire time.

Eventually he began to deliberately drag himself lower down her body, knowing that the buttons of his shirt were being pressed into her and were catching her in some very delicate places as he did so, not that that stopped him.

Nothing did - nothing _could_ \- until he was where he wanted to be, his mouth hovering above her, hands free to explore as they wouldn't have been if she wasn't bound. And explore they did, one reaching down to cup a generous globe of her bottom, squeezing and pinching just a bit, making her try to arch away from that tiny discomfort, but she couldn't even do that. His other hand flitted over her startlingly exposed privates, not quite touching but colliding occasionally places but then skittering away again, fingertips slowly beginning to settle such that they grazed her everywhere at first, then excruciatingly slowly became more demanding until they were actually rubbing her everywhere - but not _there_.

His fingers claimed everything - pinching sullenly flushed lips and forcing them even further apart as she felt his heavy breath exploding onto her tortured flesh, gliding down her cleft from top to bottom - around the most interesting parts, of course - then finally, finally, dragging them up from circling her bottom flower to leave the tip of his index finger at that tiny entrance.

"My love, do you want my finger inside you?" he whispered huskily.

"Please, Sir, please, please, _please_ , _please_!"

Tanya heard a soft chuckle. "Then ask me politely and I just might grant your wish."

He heard her swallow hard, knowing full well that he had asked her to do something that she found challenging to do. But Tom firmly believed that a little challenge every once in a while - okay, much more often than that in her case, but still - was very good for the soul.

"Puh-please, Sir, please, may I have your finger inside me?"

He counted it as a good measure of just how desperate she was that it hadn't taken her long to manage to do that at all.

"That was very good, Tanya. Very nicely put indeed." He moved from between her legs to stretch out beside her again, keeping his finger right where he wanted it until he had turned her face so that her lips bumped against his. He wanted to kiss her wildly as he penetrated her with infinite care, sliding his finger into her to the second knuckle. Tom bent his head and put his lips on her ear, asking softly, "Is that enough for you, my darling?"

"Noooooo, Sirrrrrrrr!"

"Do you want more?"

"Mmmmmmm, yes, Sir, please, Sir!"

She was panting heavily, and he found himself caught up in watching her breasts bounce as she did so. "Do you want all of my finger up inside you, to the very hilt?"

"Unnnhhhhh . . .Oh, dear God, Sir, please, yes!" He was going to kill her just with that voice of his one day, she swore. It was like another hand in her mind and on her clit at the same time.

"Ask and ye shall receive, little girl."

He thrust his finger hard into her and continued to do so, crooking it against that sweet spot within her, fucking her relentlessly and watching her nearly coming apart as he did so, continuing to drive into her as he moved back down between her legs, where he withdrew from her entirely, causing an agonized moan to escape her lips.

"Patience, my darling. Anticipation. Delayed gratification -"

"Fuck all three of them and the horse they road in on! Fuck _me_ , pleeaasssee, Sir!"

He might have taken offense at her language but he didn't because he was to amused by her desperation.

"I think another finger is called for, don't you? I know how much you enjoy being forced to open for me, how submissive - how taken - it makes you feel."

They were there, the index and middle fingers of his strong right hand, just barely inside her.

Tanya couldn't help but become more tense as he cruelly made her wait for it, knowing that that she would be holding herself just that much more tightly closed because of it, and therefore would have to work just that much harder to accommodate his invasion.

When he did it - when he jammed those fingers up into her - her cry was guttural, animalistic, from deep within her. And he didn't stop there, continuing to fuck her ferociously hard, nearly lifting her off the bed with each tremendous plunge.

In the middle of this, he finally allowed his mouth to claim that part of her that it craved the most, licking his way up from those punishing fingers to that pebble hard bud, using his left hand to pull up at the top of her mons, forcing it even further out of hiding, making it just that much more vulnerable to the eager attentions of his lips and tongue.

She was close - very close - he knew. The signs were unmistakable and he had made himself a scrupulous student of everything about her - but most especially her sexual responses in all their myriad variations.

A few minutes longer with his tongue swirling around her, fingers thrusting powerfully in and out of her, he knew she was seconds from her point of no return.

He leaned his head away from her for a second, ignoring her cries of protest at being left bereft of stimulation, and growled, "What do you call me that no one else does - say my name for me now, darling.

Dear God, he was going to quiz her _now_? "Th - Thomas," she whispered between pants.

"Yes, baby girl. I'm going to make you cum now and when you feel it, when it hits you and bowls you over, I want you to say something very specific for me. In a few seconds when I allow you to cum, Tanya, you will scream for me. You will scream, 'Yes, Thomas, I will marry you.'"

Even being that completely stunned as she was - she'd had absolutely no idea he was going to do that - when his mouth reclaimed her and that broad, wet flat tongue of his began to flick and lick at her mercilessly, she couldn't stop the freight train of sensations that were barreling down on her and he had gotten her so far into subspace that she did exactly was he'd told her to at that precise moment when all of the teasing sensations he'd been building up within her came to a fever pitch and her entire body arched and jerked helplessly in the throes of the passionate culmination he had relentlessly driven her to.

"Yes, Thomas, I will marry you!" She screamed it so hard and loud that she could feel her voice break with it as she felt herself dissolve into mindless ecstasy.

He had meant to wait. He had intended to bring her off multiple times, to leave her dizzy and dazed and weak kneed before he allow himself the ultimate satisfaction of burying himself between those slender, pinioned thighs, but he couldn't do it. He simply couldn't remain still a second longer, rearing up from her just long enough to unzip his pants and move his underwear aside, plunging his not inconsiderable length into her the moment it was free.

Tom heard Tanya's startled cry as he took her roughly, and another time he might have backed off a bit, but he couldn't, and he didn't want to. Instead he plunged ferociously forward, forcing himself to lean onto her and into her, knowing her body would yield to him because he had completely removed the option not to.

She was keening rhythmically beneath him - her head thrashing back and forth between the frame of her arms - as he set a bruising pace, not waiting as he usually did for her to adjust to his invasion but immediately beginning to thrust heavily into her, an eager mouth capturing a bouncing bud as he did so, still with the presence of mind to reach between them to settle several fingers over her clit, the frantic movements of his hips causing then to rub insistently her.

He held off until he heard her second explosion beneath him and then it was all over for him - he growled deep in his throat and bucked against her, pressing her so far into the mattress with each plunge he thought her back was going to touch the floor until he threw back his head and literally howled as his body exploded within hers.

His hips continued to rock against her for a long while after he was completely spent, and it took him much longer to recover than he had intended.

When he could think again, he levered himself away from her and immediately released her bonds, rubbing what must've been sort muscles and fussing over her, even to the point of putting her into a pretty cotton nightgown and lifting her to put her under the covers as he finished putting everything away before joining her there, finally naked himself, to spoon his body against hers, the nightgown having conveniently ridden up so that his still eager cock could fit itself into her cleft from behind.

She had been quiet since she'd cum, and he wasn't sure whether that was a good or a bad thing, considering what he'd had her say. He didn't know what kind of reaction he'd expected from what he'd done, but it wasn't none at all. That kind of worried him a bit.

Figuring he'd take the bull by the horns, he instinctively reached his hand down to cup her womanhood possessively, inserting his fingers between those still plump folds until they covered both her clit and her quim, using his other hand to cup her breast. "These are mine, yes?"

He felt her swallow hard. "Yes, Sir."

"Damn straight they are. And I intend to keep what's mine." He paused and drew a breath. "I wasn't kidding about what I had you say. We're going to be married. As far as I'm concerned, you agreed to it by obeying me. I'll give you six months to get it arranged. I'd prefer to do it as soon as possible -"

She surprised the hell out of him by saying, "Then let's. I don't need a big hoopla wedding."

He was momentarily struck speechless, which wasn't easy to do to him by any means. Then he chuckled softly. "I adore you, you know," he whispered against her cheek.

Tanya turned within the tight confines of his arms, looping her arms around his neck. "I adore you, too, my Sir Thomas."


End file.
